


Speechless

by CeiphiedKnight



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Background Victuuri - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, dj otabek, implied leoji, otabek and leo friendship, some foul language because it's yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeiphiedKnight/pseuds/CeiphiedKnight
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky was many things:  Champion Figure Skater, Friend (to those who deserved it), Grandson, Ice Tiger of Russia, Surly Jellybean (that one had been from Katsudon after one glass of wine), and he could write an entire book full of the things his fanclub had called him.What he had never been, though, was someone’s boyfriend.  Someone’s lover.  Someone’s everything.Yuri Plisetsky didn’t know how to be needed, how to give up control, and it made him mad as hell.





	1. On good days I am charming as fuck

**Author's Note:**

> This show has made my life spiral out of control, and DJ Otabek left me s h o o k. I felt like breaking this up into two parts because I'm very tired and the second part is mostly going to be sex, anyway. Sorry not sorry.

Yuri collapsed into a chair at the edge of the rink and pulled out his phone.

His breathing had yet to slow, since he had been pushing himself hard, and would still be out there if Yakov hadn’t insisted he take a break. He took a moment to look out across the ice and saw Yakov yelling at Victor, who was apparently doing a very poor coaching job because he was too busy making eyes at Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri at least had the decency to look sheepish.

Yuri felt a smile just barely lift the corner of his lips. When he was fifteen, the scene would have pissed him off. Now, though, he was just happy to still have the two idiots around. After Victor had finally retired for good, they could have gone back to Hasetsu to train, but instead opted to stay in St. Petersburg.

Yuri was a lot more perceptive and self-aware than most people gave him credit for; he just preferred yelling at the world to change around him, because it was easier than changing himself. Yuri was aware enough to know, however, that something inside him _had_ changed since then. It was a gradual thing that had started in a little town in Japan, with the crescendo in Barcelona. He had grown to care about his rinkmates, finally allowing himself to view them as friends. Family, really, especially Victor and Yuuri. The two had him over often for meals ("You're too skinny," Katsudon would say) and they helped him with his skating whenever they could, even though he was still competing against Yuuri. 

Deep down, he knew that he was part of the reason they had decided to stay in Russia.

Yuri's phone buzzed in his hand, and his smile grew. There was a message waiting, from one of the other catalysts for his change.

Otabek.

They had only been friends for close to three years, but Yuri often felt as if he’d known Otabek Altin his whole life. It was an easy sort of friendship, filled with silences that were never awkward, and stories that never got old.

As Yuri had watched his friend skate in Barcelona, after the fated motorcycle rescue, he had finally remembered him from their meeting five years prior. It had taken some time for him to make the connection between the tenacious adult and the frustrated boy he had been, but as he watched Otabek’s free skate, he had actually remembered. Those same dark eyes had watched him before, right in St. Petersburg. 

**

Otabek Altin did not whine.

He did, however, find himself in the habit of Skyping with Leo de la Iglesia at least once a month to complain about boys.

Once a month for nearly three years, in fact.

"Did you get that song I put in your Dropbox?!" Leo asked, his face glowing in the way it always did when he talked about music. 

Otabek gave him a small smile through the screen and said, "Of course, and I already have some remix ideas."

Leo's exuberance was tangible from across the world. "I'm so glad I stumbled on that album again! I know it's kind of old, but the song reminded me of you."

"I don't know if it fits me very well," Otabek said, "But it definitely reminds me of someone else."

Leo shot him a grin and said, "Let me think…I wonder who it could be?"

Otabek rolled his eyes at his friend and said, "You're no better."

"Anyway," Leo continued, conveniently avoiding that line of conversation, "I can see how the first verse would remind you of him, but the rest might be a stretch."

"Maybe," Otabek hummed, already caught up in how the song could be cut down for time, and mixed to best express the longing and desire in the lyrics.

"You're still going to Russia for his birthday, right?" Leo pressed.

Otabek nodded. "It's his eighteenth, so I want to make sure it's really special."

Leo waggled his eyebrows, suggestively. "I'll bet."

Otabek gave him a sour look before saying, "Says the man who confessed to his boyfriend at a food truck and then hid in a bookstore bathroom for an hour."

Leo frowned dramatically and narrowed his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it, "Are you ever going to let that go?!"

"Never," Otabek said, flashing his friend a genuine smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very special song to work on."

**

Eighteen.

Every year, every birthday, only served to remind Yuri of his waning career. Competitive figure skaters were only viable for a brief window of time. Not everyone was Victor Fucking Nikiforov, and while Yuri shared many things in common with the older Russian…long hair, an angular face, a lithe frame, the ability to drive Yakov into hysterics…it was not lost on him that he had been pushing his body harder than Victor ever had.

Some people were just born lucky. Yuri was not one of those people.

Yuri was, however, in top form. He'd beaten Katsudon's free skate record when he was seventeen, but it took nearly everything he had to do it. That was the year that Victor had finally retired for good, after landing a quad flip slightly wrong and blowing out his knee at Worlds. But it had happened at the very end of a spectacular program, and he had won gold. Both Yuris had helped him onto the podium, and kept their hands on him, in their respective positions next to him, so that he wouldn't lose his balance and fall on his face.

And now Yuri was barreling through Yuuri Katsuki's final season. It made sense, he was around the same age that Victor had been when he'd taken a break from skating to go chase tail in Japan. But, deep down, it bothered Yuri. He felt irrationally angry that everyone he cared about was slowly leaving him.

Even Chris had retired, quietly and with little fanfare, which surprised everyone who knew him. The only thing he had ever said is that his reason for skating was gone, and that the ice would never love him the way he had loved it.

If Yuri had to guess, though, it probably had something to do with Victor. But that was a hornets' nest that he would not be kicking, ever.

At least he still had Otabek. And any moment now, his closest friend was going to knock on his door.

The Kazakh man had insisted on visiting Yuri for his birthday.

"It's your eighteenth, Yura," he had said. "It's important."

Yuri sighed. In his opinion, it was no more important than any other day. He still woke early, still went to the rink, still got yelled at by Yakov, still got harassed by Mila, and still went home to his cat.

But Yuri did have every intention of _making_ this birthday special…it's just that he had maybe, possibly, neglected to talk to Otabek about it first.

Yuri shook his head, exasperated with himself. A curtain of long blonde hair jostled around his shoulders and down his back, past his shoulder blades. He played with a strand, absently, curling it around and around his finger before letting go.

He'd just dig down deep for the inner strength that won him gold medals, and everything would work out fine.

He was pretty sure.

Hopefully.


	2. If your glass heart should crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Thank you for all of the hits and kudos so far. Due to a family emergency that I hope ends up being minor, I won't be able to finish this today as planned. So I decided to release a snippet. At least tomorrow is Valentine's Day, which seems a better time to finish anyway. :)

"Beka!" Yuri yelled, flinging himself at his friend, and causing Otabek to drop his bags.

"Yura," Otabek breathed into the Russian's hair, as the blonde entangled himself around Otabek like some sort of skinny octopus.

Finally pulling back, Yuri bent over to pick up one of the discarded bags and led his friend into the small apartment.

"So," Yuri began, "I know a hotel would probably be more comfortable, but you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch, okay?"

Otabek frowned. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed on your birthday."

"You're not kicking me out of anything, I offered."

"No," Otabek said, with finality.

"In that case," Yuri said, a smile slowly crawling across his lips as he dropped Otabek's bag, "Maybe we should just share the bed."

He said it in such an overly nonchalant way that Otabek (who knew him better than anyone) immediately arched an eyebrow and said, "You're not subtle, Yura."

Yuri felt his face flush a bit, but noted that Otabek hadn't said no.


	3. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS WHERE THE SEX HAPPENS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add some angst that I had all planned out...but fuck it! Let's leave this on a happy note! Happy Valentine's Day, enjoy the porn!

"Do you know that feeling," Yuri said, voice pitched abnormally low, "Right before you do a jump, that moment you have to give up control and just say 'fuck it' and throw yourself into the air? That's what I'm feeling tonight."

Otabek nodded. "I know the feeling right before a jump, but I've never seen it as giving up control. In fact, I feel even more in control of my own body and my own life in that moment."

"You see," Yuri breathed, stepping ever closer, until he was just a breath away, "This is why we need each other."

It took every bit of Otabek's self-control not to close the distance between their lips.

"And why is that?" he breathed.

Yuri smiled, "Because I could use a little control in my life, and you could use a little chaos."

Otabek opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to do much more than make a strangled sound that he would surely be embarrassed about later.

Yuri's eyes narrowed with the same determination he used on the ice as he said, "Just so you know, there is only one thing I want for my birthday."

He had no idea how to further articulate the burning desire throughout his entire being, but Otabek didn't need him to. As surely as if he could read the younger man's mind, he knew what he was going to say.

Otabek knew that Yuri preferred actions over words, so he took action right away.

Yuri's eyes flew wide in surprise as Otabek crushed their lips together, his hand coming to rest on the back of Yuri's neck, solid and hot beneath his long hair.

Yuri's eyes drifted closed as his mind caught up with what was happening, and he reached his arms around Otabek's neck to pull him impossibly closer.

Yuri could hardly keep up with the push and pull of lips and tongues, but he did his best. His mouth opened slightly, inviting, and Otabek wasted no time tasting Yuri's mouth from the inside out. Their lips began sliding out of sync, caught up as they were in moving and breathing and wanting, and they finally had to pull away for some air.

"Bed," Yuri growled, and the word had never sounded so definitive as it did coming from a Russian with a proclivity toward animal print.

Otabek noted, anyway, as Yuri dragged him into the bedroom and flung him down onto the cheetah print comforter. 

Yuri was, as always, aggressive. He began pulling Otabek's shirt over his head before the older man even had a chance to get his bearings.

"Yura," Otabek was finally able to say as the blonde began working on the button of his jeans, "We don't have to go full speed ahead into this. We haven't even had a chance to really talk about…"

Yuri silenced him with a kiss. Pulling back, he said, "Fucking now, talking later."

The words weren't particular filthy, or even that unusual coming from the Russian, but they did something to Otabek. Perhaps it was just the fact that Yuri had no shame in calling it what it was.

Whatever it was, it caused Otabek to push Yuri down onto his back in one swift motion, and hover over him…shirtless, and with his jeans half undone.

"Are you sure?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Because I've never…and you've never…"

This time, Yuri reached up and gently held Otabek's face between his hands. He made calming circles on Otabek's cheeks with his thumbs and said, "Beka, I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

That was all it took. Suddenly, the only thing that existed in Otabek's life was this beautiful, strong, amazing man.

Yuri finished undoing Otabek's jeans and the Kazakh man shimmed out of them with as much grace as he could muster. There was already a tent in the front of his black boxer briefs, and Yuri reached down to palm Otabek through the fabric.

Almost painfully, Otabek grabbed Yuri's wrist and made him stop.

Yuri looked confused, and almost hurt, so Otabek explained, "If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it can begin."

"Wow," Yuri said with a somewhat breathless lilt, "I wasn't sure if you were going to be so…you know…into this. With me. I mean, I had a feeling, but…"

Otabek leaned down and captured the Russian's lips mid-word. Pulling back slowly, he said, "You must know how I feel about you by now."

Yuri opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking a bit like a fish out of water, but he finally replied, "Fucking now, feelings later."

Otabek needed no further instruction. Though he remained a bit nervous, he wanted this, too. He had wanted it for a painfully long time, actually. (As Leo would surely remind him for years to come.)

Otabek gestured for Yuri to sit up a bit, and pulled his t-shirt over his head before flinging it into a corner somewhere.

Next, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Otabek pulled down Yuri's joggers and briefs in one go.

Sitting back on his heels, Otabek admired his handiwork. Yuri Plisetsky, Russian figure skating legend in how own right, was laying naked against black sheets, his long blonde hair against the dark bedding making him look angelic. Green eyes gazed up at him, almost challenging. As if waiting for his next move.

Yuri's hardness curved up and lay heavy and red against his belly. Otabek decided that the best course of action would be to start there.

Yuri sucked in a harsh breath when Otabek grabbed his cock at the base and gave one long, tight stroke straight up the shaft, then rubbed his thumb over the head, swiping away some pre-cum that had already pooled there.

"Beka," Yuri practically slurred, already breathing heavily, "What the hell, that was awesome."

Otabek gave him a small smile, "I'm glad you approve."

He gave Yuri's shaft a few more tugs before deciding that he was definitely going to make his friend (boyfriend? lover? they really needed to talk after this) come first.

Yuri was obviously not prepared for Otabek to take him into his mouth, and yet that's where they found themselves.

"BEKA!" Yuri screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but Otabek ignored him and took as much of Yuri's cock into his mouth as deeply as he could without gagging.

Sitting up at the waist, Yuri grabbed Otabek's hair and none-too-gently yanked the Kazakh man off his dick.

"Beka," he said, trying to sound authoritative. "This isn't how I want to come the first time."

Otabek licked his lips, still wet with saliva and pre-cum, and Yuri watched the journey of Otabek's tongue with rapt attention.

"A-anyway," Yuri said, his pale skin flushed from his ears down to his collar bones, "I want to come the other way."

"Which other way, Yura? Just tell me what you want, and you'll have it."

"I want you to fuck me," Yuri finally said.

Otabek nearly choked on his own tongue.

"I want to come with you inside me," Yuri continued, somehow turning even more red.

After a pregnant pause, Otabek surprised Yuri by chuckling and saying, "Well, it _is_ your birthday."

And then Otabek's boxers found their way to the floor, and their lips were melded together, and there was no more space between them at all.

"I have," Yuri gasped between kisses, "lube," another gasp, "and condoms," _gasp_ , "desk drawer."

Otabek left just long enough to procure the items and was back on Yuri in an instant.

In their current position, their lengths were rubbing together in a way that felt both decadent and yet somehow not enough. The act itself was so intimate that Otabek may have been able to get off just on that thought alone. Just with the picture of his cock rubbing against Yuri's, sliding with combined wetness, and erotically bucking hips. But he held back, and filed that image away to savor during the times they would inevitably be apart.

As for the rest…the part that Yuri had asked for…Otabek had only seen it done in porn. He always felt comfortable enough in his own skin to accept that he just wasn't a sexual being…until Yuri Plisetsky had come along with his eyes and his skin and _that hair_ and Otabek had learned much more than he ever had before.

So, still bucking shallowly against Yuri's dripping cock, he opened the small tube and spread the slick lubricant across two of his fingers, rubbing it a bit to warm it up.

He stopped moving against Yuri, which earned him a groan of protest, but that groan turned into a sharp intake of breath as he circled Yuri's puckered rim with his lubed up fingers.

"Beka," Yuri said, almost like a prayer, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Otabek got the distinct impression that he wasn't actually being spoken to, so he kept his focus on Yuri's pleasure.

Once Yuri's opening seemed slick enough, Otabek gently entered him with one finger. Just to the first joint, but when there was no protest, he pushed in down to the knuckle.

Yuri was breathing heavily, still looking heavenward, so Otabek took that as a good sign.

He inserted a second finger, but this time Yuri gasped in what sounded like pain.

Otabek looked up in alarm.

Green eyes blinked lazily, and from his debauched expression it already looked like Otabek had taken him multiple times. Still, he had definitely hissed in discomfort.

"Keep going," Yuri slurred, "It just stung a bit. I'll try to relax more. Please, Beka."

And Otabek had never been able to deny him anything.

Slipping his two fingers back in, it did feel like Yuri was loosening up. Otabek took time trying to find his sweet spot, while also scissoring his fingers to speed up the process. He was uncomfortably hard, himself, and Yuri's wet heat was so inviting…

Otabek used his free hand to awkwardly pour more lube onto his hand, and managed to insert a third finger. With that done, he reached up to pinch one of Yuri's nipples, and then the other. They were hardened into sweet, pink peaks, and Otabek made a note to pay them more attention next time. Especially after seeing the way Yuri shuddered at the touch.

It felt like an eternity before Yuri finally looked at him again. Big, trusting green eyes met deep brown and Yuri all but whispered, "I'm ready."

Otabek tore the foil off the condom and rolled it onto himself the way he had been taught in a very awkward conversation with his father many years prior.

The head of Otabek's cock breached Yuri's hole and he would swear that he saw God and Jesus and Allah all at the same time.

Yuri stiffened a bit, his back arching off the mattress, but he settled again and gasped "Beka" as if that was the only word he knew.

Ever so slowly, Otabek finally bottomed out and his sac brushed Yuri's exquisite ass.

"Yura," he said, "You should know…I'm not going to last long. And I'm sorry. But I'll do my best."

Yuri looked at him, chest heaving, and opened his arms wide as an invitation.

Otabek wasted no time crushing their bodies together, Yuri's cock rubbing between them. Their mouths found each other again, and it was all tongue and teeth and absolutely perfect gracelessness.

Otabek had wanted to keep a slow place, so that this could last, but with so many variables he realized that he was rutting into Yuri like a teenager, but he couldn't find it within himself to stop.

Yuri had apparently forgotten all of the languages he knew, and had settled on repeating "Beka" over and over again.

"Yura," Otabek breathed into the side of his neck, into his soft hair, and then he shuddered and came.

He soon realized that the warm wetness between their bodies meant that Yuri did, too.

Otabek pulled out as gently as possible, but Yuri still winced a bit. Otabek gave him an apologetic smile as he removed the condom and tied it off, flinging it into the trash can. He then grabbed some tissues and began to clean the cum off both of their bodies.

After a long, companionable silence, Yuri finally said, "Thank you."

"No," Otabek said, leaning over and giving him a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips, "Thank you."

They lay together for a while, letting their breathing and hearts slow to a normal pace. Yuri looked half-asleep when Otabek realized that he'd forgotten something important.

"Yura," he whispered, shaking the younger man's shoulder. "Wake up. I still have to give you your birthday gift."

"I think you already did, idiot," Yuri mumbled, back to his normal self.

"Okay, then I need to give you your other birthday gift. You don't even need to move, or open your eyes. Just listen."

Within moments, music filled the small room.

"The tune is familiar," Yuri said, his eyes closed. "Did you remix this yourself?"

"I did," Otabek said. "It reminded me of you."

Piano. A woman's voice, strong and deep with just a hint of something that felt like it belonged in a different era. 

_"And I know that it's complicated_  
But I'm a loser in love, so baby   
Raise a glass to mend  
All the broken hearts  
Of all my wrecked up friends…" 

Yuri's eyes suddenly flew open, and he turned onto his side to look at Otabek.

"I'm going to skate to this next season. It'll be my free skate. I can already see it in my head…and it'll all be for you."

In that moment, Otabek knew that he could never be this happy with anyone else by his side.

"I can't wait to see it," he finally replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Just as they drifted off to sleep, both still nude and in need of a shower, Otabek mumbled into tangled hair the color of a summer sunrise.

"Мен сені жақсы көремін"


End file.
